


You Collect Scars (Because You Want Proof That You Are Paying for Your Sins)

by emrys (livingshitpost)



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Addiction, Amnesia, Amputation, Attempted Murder, Background Character Death, Blood Addiction, Blood Loss, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Undeath, Dalaran, Death, Death Knight, Death Knights - Freeform, Demon Blood, Demon Hunters, Disturbing Themes, Dubious Morality, Dysfunctional Family, Endless Hunger - Freeform, F/F, Family Issues, Family Reunions, Fantasy Racism, Forced Cannibalism, Fucked Up, Gen, Gore, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Late Night Writing, Lesbian Character, Major Character Undeath, Major Original Character(s), Memory Loss, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mild Gore, Mild Painplay, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Minor Character Death, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Morally Ambiguous Character, Murder, Night Elves, Nightmares, Not Really Character Death, Orcs, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Night Elf Character(s) - Freeform, Original Orc Character(s) - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV Lesbian Character, POV Original Character, POV Original Female Character, Past Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Rating May Change, Recovered Memories, Recovery, References to Addiction, Self-Destruction, Suffering, Suicidal Thoughts, Tags May Change, Temporary Amnesia, Temporary Character Death, Torture, Trauma, Undeath, Violence, Warnings May Change, Well - Freeform, almost emo, almost-corpses, and this is like. canon shit. like shit dog, anyway i'm rambling, but like, chapter three is a fuckin. barrel of fun isn't it, fuck you and fuck your factions, goth aesthetic but emo on the inside, i guess, i have absolutely no idea how swordfighting works, i'm not sure if i want to know why that's a tag, if you're actually reading all of these ? lov u, it's not necessarily sexual but. she is taking joy in causing pain so ig, kinda almost?, kinda???, none of this is sexual. i can't write that shit ok, pfhhhhhh uhhhh, soon-to-be-corpses, sorry abt that lajsfdlj, technically, thanks fr puttin up w my bs, the death knights are all pretty fucked up, the more i read abt dks the more i'm convinced that they're goth, they're like scene or some shit, uh uhhhhh idk what this is lmao, yeah that's enough tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-25 03:25:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12521876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingshitpost/pseuds/emrys
Summary: scraps of stories about and inner monologues of my undead lesbian mom





	1. Heroes Are Not Born, They Are Made (But the Same Goes for Villains)

**Author's Note:**

> chapter warnings: accidental attempted murder

Talasaria.

When I was raised by the Scourge, that was the name I was given. I accepted it gratefully. Not many were given names if they couldn't remember them on their own. I considered it an honor. I thought myself special. Wanted. Lucky, even.

Just how  _stupid_ could I be?

 _Talasaria_. The name tastes bitter in my mouth, but I can't bring myself to let it go. I was once Tal'sar, mighty warrior, and hero of the Horde. Damned Arthas, making every name he could sound more  _human_ , knowing we couldn't do anything about it. A cruel joke because he twisted us beyond our control. I can't stand it. And yet, I can't bring myself to let my new name go.

Part of me mourns her.

The other parts know it's silly. Stupid. Pointless. I still have the same body, and I still have the same mind, so what is there to mourn? I'm still Tal'sar, mighty warrior, and champion of the Horde.

Part of me knows that's not true. Not anymore. It's more complicated than that.

My brother is older than me. I first met him when I was born. But after returning from the Eastern Plaguelands, smelling of rotten fruit thrown by guards and citizens of Ogrimmar alike, wiping spit from my armor, he saw me from across the room and ran over to hug me, and I nearly killed him with my bare hands.

Tal'sar wouldn't have done that.

She would have cried, returning the gesture, happy -no,  _overjoyed_ \- to see him again.

I shoved him away, expression cold, and grabbed him by the underside of his chin. I held him in the air, kicking and struggling, with one hand. I nearly crushed his throat. I would have done it, too, had he not choked out my former name.

My grip loosened and he fell to the floor, coughing and hacking and rubbing at his neck (where there would be bruises for at least a week). He looked up at me with nothing but fear in his eyes. He was shaking.

He didn't reach out to me again for several days. I remembered during that time that, when we were kids, I had always been the physically stronger one of us, and I had protected him.

I had (albeit inadvertently) betrayed him.

Tal'sar was a mighty warrior, champion of the Horde, and she kept her brother safe.

Talasaria is a death knight of Acherus, a bloodthirsty monster, and an abomination.

I'm bad at introductions, trying with everything I have in me to redeem myself, and wanting desperately to find a balance between my two former identities.


	2. I Cannot Sleep (I Will Not Sleep)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warnings: hints of nightmares (otherwise none)

_This is the hour of your dark rebirth._

I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands until I saw stars and my ears were filled with white noise. My linen shirt clung to my sweat-slicked skin, and cold nibbled at every inch of me (not that I minded; I'd long since grown used to that). I pulled myself up from the bed and walked out onto the balcony of my room, leaning over the railing to glance over the streets of the city.

The pale moonlight and the sound of insects, combined with the cool night wind, gave the effect that I might be back in Acherus. I tried to push the thought away. 

I didn't bother turning when I heard the mattress creak. A pair of arms wound around my waist and held me gently. 

"Come back to bed," Elyssaria murmured into the back of my shoulder, leaving tiny kisses on my skin. 

I smiled, gently tousling the aqua hair of my lover. "I will," I said softly. "I just needed some air."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

She yawned. "Okay." She pulled herself away and kissed me on the cheek before padding back to bed. 

I returned my attention to the skies. The stars twinkled silently down at me for a while before being hidden by a blanket of clouds, and I went back to bed. 

I closed my eyes, but did not sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited to be in the first person


	3. Wearing Gore, a Blank Stare, and Not Much More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warnings: gore, violence, killing, and I Don't Know How Fighting Works But I Tried

The Endless Hunger is only spoken of in hushed tones, even inside the walls of the Ebon Hold. Many Knights have lost themselves to it. Even more of us have lost people we've loved, or at the very least been powerless to stand by and watch as another refused to inflict pain and slowly begin to suffer themselves. It's not uncommon while wandering the cold halls of Acherus at night to see those who have renounced their blades muttering to themselves softly in corners, confused and broken and with little time left before they must be killed once again, this time to be left to rot.

My fingers itch. Not in a literal sense, but there's no other way to describe the way they won't be still. I can't go on like this for long.

I'm not sent, but I go to Argus anyway.

The Antoran Wastes stink of fire and brimstone and death. The telltale stink of fel energy. If I were alive, I would be gagging and retching on the thick, disgusting air. It serves a purpose though; leading me to my targets. Where the stench is strongest, I will find the most demons.

A ball of dark energy hits me square in the back. I whirl around to see an eredar warlock readying his next spell.

Good.

I remove my sword from where I keep it on my back and run towards him, running him through just above his navel. He continues to cast, but green, fel-infected blood dribbles from the corner of his mouth. I lift my hand and allow dark, shadowy tendrils to wrap around his neck, holding him in place a few inches above the ground. He kicks me feebly in the stomach, but his struggle is easily stopped when I take hold of him by the hooves, cut them off at the knees, and let them fall to the ground. His blood is warm as it flows freely over my hands. He's already screaming, but I grab roughly at the bloody ends of his legs, one in each hand, and dig my nails into the exposed muscle. Surely, if he were to live, his voice would be hoarse for days.

Another eredar hears his cries and kicks me in the side of the knee. My concentration is broken and the warlock drops to the ground, dirt coating his open, still profusely-bleeding wounds. He's not a problem anymore. I turn to the wrathguard, throwing my sword up just in time to block her overhead blow. I twist my blade around hers. She nicks my legs, but the blood flows slowly and the pain is dulled, both of which are symptoms of undeath. I leave a deep slash across her forearm and thrust the blade into her chest, then abruptly jerk it down, effectively throwing her to the ground. I put my foot on her abdomen and abruptly remove my weapon from her dying body. She whines as I do, lacking the strength to even cry out in pain.

But I know she's and her warlock comrade are suffering, because the itching of my fingers has stopped.

Part of me is disgusted with myself. But this is a necessary evil if I am to keep my mind, and my sanity, intact.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me at transanduin.tumblr.com !! i love to Yell


End file.
